She deserves the truth, Penelope. Put down those papers.
Things are chaotic enough. This simplifies that.
It’s her life story. You cannot take that from her.
She’s my daughter.
She won’t be any longer.
But she’ll never know her mother.
Rip. Tear. Torn.
Look what you have done.
I freed her from this horror.
Someday, the truth will come out.
Only if you make it so.
What would Odysseus say?
You’re crossing a bridge that is no longer there.
Burn the shreds and scatter the ashes.
Only the gods may judge me now.